


The Renegade Hunter

by Biodiversity (SoraSato)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Multi, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26212222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoraSato/pseuds/Biodiversity
Summary: Erotic adventures of the female Inquisitor and a male Trevelyan.This is a WIP created back in 2017.WARNING: Contains politically incorrect elements and unequivocal speech (like calling a cow a cow) :PP.S. I'm fine with all kinds of comments ;)If you want to take ideas or anything, please ask first!
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Female Inquisitor/Trevelyan Hunter
Kudos: 5





	The Renegade Hunter

The Inquisitor stretched her back and tousled her hair, moaning in despair. All members of the Council looked equally weary, the sun was already setting behind the mountain range, but the much-needed solution was still eluding them.

The dusky light reflected in her clear grey-green eyes, and a curly light-brown lock fell on her forehead. She loudly exhaled and resolutely said:

“I'm sure as Fade done for tonight. No more wracking brains. I'm going now to madam Zelda's, maybe it will get me some fresh ideas.”

At the mentioning of madam Zelda, Cullen, Cassandra, Leliana, and Josephine predictably scowled, such behavior of the Herald of Andraste being so not up to their standards, but the Inquisitor's "boys' club" (the Iron Bull, Dorian, and Varric) cheered and nodded knowingly.

Everyone started to move toward the exit, and Cassandra couldn't contain herself:

“Eli, but why on earth wouldn't you find yourself a fiancé instead of… of these questionable visits to seedy places like madam Zelda's?”

The Inquisitor exchanged conspiratorial glances with the Tevinterian mage and replied, laughing:

“Oh, to kill a whole pig to just eat half a sausage? Why would I be patient with a man's fragile ego, cajole him, put up with his stupid ideas just to have access to… his sausage once or twice a week?”

Her "boys' club" giggled at the mentioning of the sausage, while the Inquisitor continued in a playful tone:

“Why, if I were to really choose a boyfriend, it would probably be Dorian, for I got used to his tantrums by now. But sadly, he doesn't love me that way…”

She grinned at the mage, and the latter, eyeing her androgenic svelte figure clad in mummy-like strips of leather, laughed in reply:

“Why, my darling dear, out of all persons of your gender that I know of, you come closest to set a special place in my wildest dreams…” he put his arm around her waist and purred languidly in her ear:

“Tell you what, my sweetest boss, why don't we hire a cheeky young man for us both and see how it goes…”

Cassandra let out a loud aghast noise and precipitated down the corridor, shaking in disgust.

Cullen followed her, his expression withdrawn and bitter, and Dorian murmured in the Inquisitor's ear:

“I bet this oaf has been picturing himself as your fiancé, my dear…”

Eli looked at the templar's quickly receding back and sighed:

“You are probably right. But I can't stand this whining oaf!”

“I imagine that in bed he would kill himself over the shame of farting!” laughed the mage, and the Inquisitor pulled away from his hug.

“Now you are being gross…”

It did not put off the mage, and the jolly company headed through the main entrance to the hall toward the lower courtyard, where numerous establishments have recently settled in.

Madam Zelda's was bustling rather uncharacteristically on the occasion of Saturday night.

Both buddies – the Inquisitor and the mage – spotted a tall handsome man almost simultaneously, but Eli was quicker to get to him.

She grabbed him by his neck and announced to Dorian:

“This is the one I want!”

The mage scoped at a glance the man's athletic figure, his gaunt face with salient cheekbones, full lips with a luscious grin, lucid clear eyes under dark brows, all this topped with artfully disheveled blond hair, and pronounced:

“You hit the golden bull's eye, my precious, I'll have him too…”

But the man's eyes sparkled with laughter as he resolutely grabbed Eli by the waist, sized her up, and said to the mage keeping his gaze on the woman:

“Sorry, pally, but I do women only.”

And he dragged the Inquisitor farther into the bowels of the cloacae. Eli quickly turned her head to Dorian and stuck out her tongue at him, teasing and winking.

The man took her into a poorly lit boudoir and grabbed an oil lamp from the nearby table.

He scanned the woman again, a strangely amused expression on his face. Then his grin broadened and he moved to her, cocking his head for a kiss.

She arched her brow and stopped him.

“Decided that you liked what you saw? My turn. Hold that lamp still.”

She unbuckled his jacket and undid laces on his shirt.

His pectorals and abdomen nearly took her breath away. She caressed the man's stomach, mesmerized, then mumbled: "Oh, yes!" and promptly started kissing him on the mouth.

The man put the lamp back on the table and eagerly shed off his jacket together with the shirt.

They had a hard time getting rid of the Inquisitor's leather bindings but finally, they got her untangled and freed from all clothes.

Under the trappings of her suit, she looked much less androgenic, much more gracious, curvy, and supple, like a well-groomed young feline.

The man handled her carefully and lovingly, and she was melting in his hands like soft butter.

Later in the night, when their passions were well satisfied and they were dozing on the plush sofa, lazily fondling each other, Eli murmured:

“I would buy you for a month, what do you say?”

Unexpectedly, she heard the man laugh and then felt him kissing her shoulder.

“I would buy you too, but I don't expect you to concede.”

The Inquisitor opened her eyes and turned to meet his gaze.

“What are you saying?”

He grinned.

“I'm saying that I came here for the same purpose as you did, and just decided to play along, because I liked you and this funny game. Turned out well enough, don't you think?”

But Eli frowned.

“Usually, I go to madam Zelda's because I trust her employees to be healthy and professional. And you violated my trust and now I cannot be sure that you are either professional OR healthy…”

The man shrugged his massive shoulders nonchalantly.

“I've seen enough caved-in faces in my day to take my precautions very seriously. As to professionalism in this area… I REALLY cannot imagine what it could be…”

Eli sighed.

“Professionals don't use emotional blackmail and don't spill their guts to everyone around.”

The man grinned again cheerfully.

“Oh, **_that_** … I won't spill my guts, I promise, and I really don't see any use for emotional blackmail. I would just smack your sweet butt and make out with you again, that's all. So. Were these all your complaints?”

The woman thought it over and declared:

“Almost. What's your name?”

“Philip.”

“So, Philip, why haven't I seen you here before?”

He scoffed softly.

“You've got a knack for some serious interrogation, lady. I just arrived here the day before yesterday. Wanted to offer my help to the Inquisition cause. They say I'm a decent hunter…”

She smiled deviously.

“I hope you are as good a hunter as you are lover.”

He laughed again.

“Aw, flatterer!... Will you help me find someone in charge of the troops?”

The woman shrugged her shoulders.

“That would be Cullen. You haven't reported to him yesterday?”

Philip sighed.

“Nah. I had to take care of Arvaraash, my Rivaini horse, he lost his footing in the mountains and injured his leg. He is an incomparable aid in any fight and my faithful friend, I could not just abandon him there. So yesterday, I returned to the place where I left him with your local stable master Denneth. A good chap, knows his stuff. We transported Arvaraash here on a bronto, and today, almost the whole day I was busy with lodging and arrangements for my friends and treatment for my horse... Now, have I cleared my name?”

Eli shook her copious mass of curly hair cut just below her ears.

“Not just yet…”

They kissed with pleasure but both felt no need to rush things again, and Philip found it only natural to satisfy some of his curiosity as well:

“And your clothes, they aren't just for the looks either, I take it?”

Eli nodded.

“I try to stay away from the heat though, I'm using arrows to do my share.”

“Like the Inquisitor? I've heard she's one sharp shooter…”

The woman wrinkled her nose.

“In a way…” she mumbled unenthusiastically, when a figure materialized behind the gossamer curtain covering the entrance to their alcove, and this person pointedly cleared his throat.

Eli looked that way, saw the scout, sighed impatiently, and said curtly:

“What again? It's Saturday night, for Andraste's sake!”

The scout needlessly cleared his throat again and announced:

“A message for you, your Worship. From mistress Leliana.”

Surprised, the Inquisitor's lover jumped up from his place on the sofa, while Eli snatched the note from the scout.

She read it silently by the lamplight:

 _My people received intelligence that no other than Philip Trevelyan has arrived at Skyhold. I'm not sure of his intentions, so be very careful if you meet him. There were many talks of him being an apostate and a blood mage to boot_.

Eli sighed, nodded to the scout that he was free to leave, burned the note, and turned to the man.

He was eyeing her incredulously with a slightly mad joker twinkle in his eyes as if he was ready to burst into laughs on cue.

“What's all this?” he asked, intrigued, as soon as the scout left.

Eli sighed and started gathering her clothes.

“Awww, now I'm busted. All right, ser Philip, now I'm going to go to my bed because it's way more comfortable and cleaner than this sofa. If you are not too flabbergasted, you may join me. If not, well, you were one Fade of a good ride and I'm grateful for it.”

Philip lowered his eyes introspectively, cleared his throat, and shook his head in disbelief. Then he licked his lips, met her gaze, and grinned.

“I bet your bed is far better than that mess I have in the tavern. Lead the way.”

And he began getting dressed.

The Sunday morning sun crawled up to her face and she turned, half-awake, in an attempt to hide from the light. Her hand encountered something taut, and she liked the feeling. So, gradually, she opened her eyes to see the blond man sleeping beside her.

She took a good look at him this time, and something sucked in the pit of her stomach. The man was so good-looking he could have been chiseled from marble by some genius artist, if not for a healthy blush on his cheeks, some brown stubble, and soft curls of hair on his chest and arms. And he had treated her so gently the previous evening (before he knew who she was) when she was sure that it was genuine…

His fluffy dark eyelashes trembled, and she saw slits of his eyes widen slightly, letting the silver of his clear eyes shine through. A slow half-grin appeared on his lips. He turned to his side and unhurriedly opened his eyes to meet her gaze.

“Your bed is the best thing after sex with you that happened to me in weeks…” he mumbled, smiling dreamily.

Eli laughed.

“About the bed – that sounded true.”

He grabbed her with one arm and pulled her toward him, pressed her to his torso, and started lovingly fondling her skin.

“This woman is so prickly,” he murmured softly, caressing her.

She felt his morning glory rise and giggled:

“Prickly? More like you than me.”

“I'm not insisting, but you probably cannot imagine how good it feels to have a sweet woman in my arms in the morning instead of waking up hugging a sack full of rusks in a damp tent pitched somewhere in the middle of nowhere...”

Eli laughed despite herself.

“You have no idea…”

She never switched from the playful light tone when she asked:

“So, what are you up to, the dreaded ser Philip Trevelyan? Do I need to worry?”

The man smiled.

“Ah, the note!”

“You’re a good observer.”

“I have no clue what the dreaded me am supposed to be up to, frankly. I've lost the track of all things people get to say about me. Personally, I prefer when they purse their lips and confer to their young daughters that I'm a shameful libertin who behaved so badly at the last orgy in Val Royeaux that they couldn't repeat what I did. And then start arduously retelling how I bathed in the fountain at the market square while drinking sparkling wine, or how I threw a woman from my retinue into the lagoon… Never minding that it was your dearest spymaster Leliana…”

“How come?” Eli was genuinely intrigued.

“Oh, simple. She wanted an agent at the Empress's court. Her wish ended in the lagoon.”

The Inquisitor sighed and mused aloud:

“Why do I get the feeling that everything is not as simple as you let on?”

Philip grinned and kissed her hand.

“Gentleman never tells…”

They heard a squeak of the door, followed by someone's peppy steps.

Dorian's head poked up from the staircase. He was in a buoyant mood and cheered them energetically:

“Ah, you are awake, my dear darling!” he exclaimed and climbed the rest of the stairs. “Your ride is still with you, congratulations, you lucky cricket!” he strolled to her bed and started taking off what meager remnants of clothes were still hanging on his shoulders. “Apparently, you were a lot luckier than I was…” he climbed into bed with Eli, to the other side from Philip, said to him “Good morning” and continued as if nothing happened… (Eli looked at Philip, rolled her eyes and made him a sign not to mind the chatty Tevinterian.) “…So, there I was with this young lad when I realized that that was not what I had expected! We made a deal with you to have l'amour à trois!...”

Eli pointed at Philip and interjected:

“This is a Trevelyan, apparently, by the way…”

Never skipping a beat, Dorian beamed at the other man, shook his hand, and said:

“Charmed. The more Trevelyans the merrier. So, my dear, I realized that you stood me up on this…!”

Covered by the mage's noisy exclamations, another head made its appearance behind the balustrade of the staircase. This one was grey and had massive horns as adornment.

The Iron Bull's huge bulk grew larger by every step he was mounting.

Upon seeing him, Eli growled:

“Now I see what we are getting at. The next one who comes through that door goes to the kitchen to order us a breakfast!”

“All right, I get it,” sounded Varric's voice out of the blue. “For how many?”

“Twelve. Cole does not eat, and the black bitch doesn't wake up so early on Sunday.”

“Got that,” said Varric's voice waning behind the door.

The Iron Bull stood up in front of the bed, contemplating the scene.

“What an idyll!” he cackled, amused.

Dorian grinned at him and suddenly started kissing Eli's shoulder.

She was so surprised that she merely stared at the mage and at what he was doing.

Philip laughed and shook his head:

“Now I know what a madhouse is!”

Eli looked at him helplessly, Dorian now licking her neck, and her nipples stood firm like two tiny turrets.

Philip mindlessly brushed them with the palm of his hand, and the woman moaned, began caressing his chest.

“Damn, this is so weird…” the Trevelyan murmured and covered her mouth with his lips.

The three started making love right in front of the giant spectator, totally ignoring his presence. The Iron Bull didn't mind them, he found himself a comfortable armchair and sat there observing the scene like an old connoisseur.

But a racket at the door interrupted them for good, because there came Varric, orchestrating a group of house elves hauling a long table and another group carrying table linens, tableware, and various foods.

While the elves were busy, the trio tried to steal a few last caresses, but the elves were followed by the Inquisitor's advisors and partners, and the in-bed performance was effectively stopped by the spymaster's loud exclamation:

“You! There! Of all places!”

Philip cursed under his breath and turned his head to face the spymaster.

“Hi, Lily. Long time no see.”

Leliana's face, always so smooth and emotionless, was now covered in red spots. Clearly, she didn't know how to react to the man's appearance in the Inquisitor's quarters.

As everyone started to take their places around the table, Leliana stood still in the middle of the room staring at the Trevelyan.

Eli rolled her eyes with a sigh, stood up stark naked, and, followed by the men's interested glances, went to her wardrobe and found herself a robe. Then she went to the table and gestured toward the bed.

“Please let me introduce…”

But Philip interrupted her. He stood up, wrapped his loins in a bedsheet, and gallantly bowed to the company.

“I'd better do it myself. Philip Trevelyan, at your service, ladies and gentlemen. I got word that there is certain Cullen among you, to whom I should report for service.”

By this time, Leliana managed to suppress whatever feelings his appearance had stirred in her, and she went to her seat with a slightly mocking expression on her face.

“Surely, you are far from the idea to serve the Inquisition, lord Trevelyan,” she uttered in a superficially calm voice.

Philip shrugged his shoulders and followed the Inquisitor's beckoning to sit beside her.

“Why not?” he asked as he took a piece of bread and a butter knife.

“Because of this!” exclaimed the spymaster and in a split second threw a well-crafted throwing knife into the man's face.

Philip instantly reacted to this with a small gesture that made the throwing knife hang in the air just a few inches from his face and resumed buttering his toast.

“See? He doesn't even use a staff! He is an abomination!” Leliana's voice was thick with unhealthy excitement, her eyes had a feverish spark to them.

The bald elf, Solas, looked at the Trevelyan with interest, all others – with apprehension.

Philip kept remarkable calm as he waved the floating knife off his face like an intrusive fly and sank his white teeth into the buttered toast with a loud crunching noise.

He did not even try to explain anything, he just sat there, eating. Then, when he swallowed the bite, he turned to Eli and simply said:

“I came here to fight, as I already told you. I'm good with both sword and bow. I can be useful in many ways. That is if you'll have me, if you aren't afraid of a minor quirk of nature. I don't do anything supernatural unless someone sorely requires a demonstration,” at this, he cast a sideward glance at the spymaster, “but other than that, I'm just your average spoilt rich cowboy brat from the Free Marches who behaves like a peasant that he is in the refined capital of the sumptuous Orlesian empire. But, heck, you're against a hole in the sky and an ancient crazy thing, I'd think that you'd need all the help you can get…”

Dorian, munching on his breakfast on the other side from the Inquisitor, jumped at this occasion to exclaim:

“I say we take him in! He is so cute! If he is an abomination, I'll adopt him as a puppy!”

Eli slightly frowned, still looking at the Trevelyan.

“Why now?”

He shrugged his bare well-muscled shoulders and took another bite from his toast.

“Because I'm a lazy bum and I played for time as long as I could negotiate with my conscience. So, am I already in, or are you trying to keep up with your Inquisitor title?”

The Inquisitor creased her brow.

“That was rude.”

“And to act so suspicious when someone offers help is also rude.”

Eli took some porridge and declared:

“Then as soon as your story with the horse and master Denneth checks out you may be in. Josephine will find you some suitable lodging.”

Philip's icy eyes sparkled with laughter as he reached for the tureen:

“Kicking me out already? Ouch! And there I was starting to grow on you…”

Eli rolled her eyes and addressed the Iron Bull who was enjoying the bickering as much as he did enjoy his copious breakfast:

“That's what I was talking about when I told you why I preferred professionals. No sticking.”

Philip sighed, pushed his chair loudly away from the table, jammed the rest of the toast between his strong white teeth, and, leaving the sheet on the chair, went to the bed to gather his belongings.

Varric grinned and whispered to the Iron Bull:

“That's absolutely priceless – Eli's got a match! I tell you, we're here for one Fade of a circus show!”

Dorian enviously eyed the parting man, sighed, and said to the Inquisitor:

“Good riddance, my precious. Although he's got such a great butt!... We'll need much to talk about!”

The Inquisitor let it slip and waved her spoon in the general direction of all people present at the table.

“Now, are we ready to resume our brainstorm? How do we ambush Venatori in that Maker-forsaken place?”

Cullen cleared his throat and said:

“I keep advocating my approach, from the north, where we can climb the wall from the hills…”

“It will take us hours and lots of efforts. By the time our soldiers get there, they'll be exhausted!” replied Leliana. “I say we make a distraction…”

Quickly back to defending the last night's ideas, the company did not realize that their guest Trevelyan stopped in his tracks toward the door and stood there listening to them argue.

Then he slowly backed to his seat and started listening more closely, standing behind his chair and leaning his elbows on its back.

Solas was the only one who seemed to care about the newcomer's movements and was the first one to hear the man's suggestion.

“Did you try to knock on the door?”

At first, they did not understand what he was saying, then started impatiently dismissing him as a fool. But Solas managed to get their attention and said:

“Please everyone, let him speak…”

Philip gratefully nodded to the elf and shrugged his shoulders.

“If you are talking about the Still Ruins in the Western Approach, I can tell you one thing – the time was stopped there a while ago. So, you can poke those Venatori in the eyeballs till you get bored and still they'll never budge. I know, I've tried…”

“But how on earth did you end up there?” exclaimed Leliana, half-annoyed, half- amazed.

“Dear, I do a lot of things outside of your knowledge,” sneered Philip and continued “So, basically, all you need is knock on the door to make sure there aren't any stray peeves around and go inside, do whatever you like, hang your panties on their noses or whichever was your plan. But local beasts try to avoid those M-word weirdoes as much as possible, so the only adversaries you may encounter there are buddies of those who got stuck in time. Personally, I wasn't there long enough to see if I get stuck too, but I assume that a couple of certified M-ages waiting for you on the outside will be guarantee enough that nothing bad happens to the brave explorers inside…”

The people at the table fell silent for a while.

Then Varric spelled it out:

“This changes everything…”

Satisfied with the effect, Philip turned and headed for the exit.

Then he stopped again and made a few steps back to the table.

“One more thing, almost forgot. There are Fade beasties there, frozen as well. But that's not my problem.”

He inclined his head to honor the Herald of Andraste and resolutely marched to the door.

He didn't have time to close the door behind him when Varric said out loud:

“Now that's what I call an efficient sleepover. Seems you banged the right answer, your Worship, and madam Zelda surely has given you plenty of fresh ideas…”

*

Philip was eating lentil porridge at the tavern when Eli came to stand in front of him.

He leveled his gaze to see her but said nothing, busy chewing on the porridge.

The Inquisitor sat in front of him, put her chin on her fist, and observed him eating for a while.

Then she fished what looked like a golden trinket out of her pouch and put it in front of his plate.

The man did not display any curiosity, and Eli had to explain:

“As thanks for your advice on the Still Ruins. I found it in their treasury.”

Without as much as looking at the thing, Philip swept it off the table, dropped it into his purse, and resumed eating.

“Are you mad at me?” asked Eli, looking at him with curiosity.

The man raised his eyes and fixed her with a neutral stare.

“We are professionals, why would I be mad at you?”

The Inquisitor winced but did not give up.

“Then how much? How much do you cost?”

His stare was cold.

“I'm off the market now.”

Eli puffed in outrage.

“All this because you joked that you started to grow on me and I joked that I prefer professionals?!”

He shook his head and tore a bit of bread from the lump on the table.

“Because you don't know when to trust people. I find that this is not a good trait for a leader.”

The woman frowned.

“Oh, I trusted you plenty. Even after I learned who you were, I invited you into my home.”

Philip seemed to think it over, then nodded.

“True enough.”

Eli sighed.

“Soooooo… Your story with the horse checked out. Our next Council session is tomorrow after lunch. If you wanna help us, you may as well join us there…”

Philip nodded. At first, he ate another spoonful of lentils, then thought it over and asked half-heartedly:

“What's with that mage? A friend of yours?”

Eli couldn't help but grin.

“Jealous? Sorry, I had to ask. Dorian usually prefers men but I don't know what's came upon him lately. Maybe some middle-age crisis, who can tell?”

Philip did not hurry with the next question, but the Inquisitor seemed to accept his pace of processing.

Finally, he asked:

“What should I call you? Your Worship?”

Eli giggled.

“Depends on whether you are available… professionally…”

Philip's stern mood developed a crack. He looked at the woman suspiciously.

“Hmmmm… May I think about it?”

“Nope. Take it or leave it. One-time deal.”

The man stood up, brushed aside his meal, effortlessly swung his legs over the tabletop, and leapt to his feet very close to the woman. She stood up too.

He studied her eyes and her face for a while. Then brushed the side of her face with his fingertips, pulled lightly on her lower lip baring her lower teeth…

“You are trouble…” he mumbled, warily eyeing her. Then a peevish smile appeared on his full lips when he asked:

“How much do you offer?”

The woman smiled back. Her pupils were dilated when she breathed out:

“Name your price.”

“My price is banging you each night for a month starting tonight.”

She grinned.

“Then you will have only the first letter of my name tonight.”

The man scoffed.

“I already overheard your chums calling you Eli.”

The Inquisitor arched her brow.

“But what does it stand for? Elijah? Elisha, Elisabeth, Elias, Elimelech? Or maybe it's Helena? Or something else entirely? Like a nickname…”

Philip's eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“I would be stunned if it turned out to be some Elimelech… Come to think of it, why don't we start my chore now, in my room upstairs?”

Eli was on the verge of saying: "yes" but she just gave him a long kiss on the neck, just below his ear, and whispered:

“When the bell tower tolls eight. Don't be late.”

Truth be told, she was feeling a little nervous as the time was creeping toward evening, but then Josephine accosted her, and she stopped thinking about the arrangement with the Trevelyan.

“The Chantry sent an emissary to us, she will arrive in two days. First, she will have a conversation with Mother Giselle, then she would like to speak to you…” Josephine looked positively nervous.

Eli sighed.

“Josie, I remember by heart all your arguments that we may lose the Chantry support if I don't behave like a nun…”

“But if they learn that you've taken in Philip Trevelyan, the worst Orlesian libertin and the scandalous lover to the Empress, we are sure to get an anathema for this!”

Eli scoffed.

“This is ridiculous!”

Josephine waved her arms in exasperation.

“But it is not! This is very serious, Eileen! You are a Trevelyan, he is a Trevelyan, they will start saying it's bad blood! I know you are very distant cousins, but it will be disastrous for them! They will invent some blood-chilling pagan incestual stories about you not being a good Andrastean and incriminate you with worshipping some blighted pagan monstrosity!”

“Josie, Josie, calm down!” the level of the Antivan's alarm started to seep through Eli's usual defenses. “We will keep quiet about my night with the man, and the holy Andraste will be none the wiser. I can even start flirting still harder with Dorian if it helps…”

Josephine breathed out, not entirely persuaded, but a tone calmer, and laughed bitterly:

“Flirting with a Tevinterian mage is the second worst thing you could do…”

Eli rolled her eyes.

“And they would want to see me chaste and pure, and I should probably fight Venatori with prayers and rosaries! All right, Josie, I will speak with this emissary and show her that I am not some kind of reptile that they can blame for all their sins… All right, it was nice talking to you, I must go.”

When she came to her room, the fire was merrily crackling in the fireplace, a gorgeous light-blue dress with golden ribbons was arranged on top of her bed, and the door to the balcony was slightly ajar.

Philip was standing outside, on the balcony, helping himself to some wine and overseeing the distant military camps.

Eli quietly crawled from behind and tried to grasp the wine from the table, when the man caught her hand without even looking in her direction.

“You brushed the sole of your foot on the threshold,” he explained, unhurriedly turning to her and smiling.

His lips were moist and red with wine.

“I was careless,” she admitted, taking a swig from the bottle. “You built the fire?”

The man shrugged his massive shoulders.

“An elf did. I thought it was rather chilly for a bedroom, so I asked her.”

The woman grinned.

“Nice thinking!... Have you encountered our Chantry Mother yet?”

“Is that a trick question? Should I seek out her attentions?”

The Inquisitor shook her head and delayed answering, but Philip looked carefully at her and asked in a different tone:

“Problems with the Chantry?”

Eli nodded.

“Some rubbish with bloodlines this time.”

“Ah!” Philip raised his head, his gaze distant.

"This ‘Ah’ meaning ‘I know where the wind blows from’?”

He nodded.

“Celine's maids of honor came up with this idea when I let slip to someone that I plan on going to Skyhold.”

“Did you really bang Empress Celine?”

He puffed and repeated what he had said earlier:

“Gentleman never tells. Now, would you like to take a bath and slip into something less bloodthirsty?”

“Like that flimsy dress?”

“If you like.”

Eli took the wine with her and returned to the room without further argument.

The bathroom was already steaming with hot water, and Eli turned to Philip.

“You are suspiciously well-versed in such niceties. I'm not used to it and it makes me feel awkward. Also, I cannot understand why should I put on that dress if soon afterward I will take it off?”

Philip laughed lightly.

“Such healthy pragmatism! But if we continue that line of thinking, then why should we even get out of bed each morning if we all are going to die anyway? Such niceties make life more colorful, my dear.”

The woman thought about it while removing her leather jerkin and nodded before lowering into the bathtub.

“I see your point. Will you join me?”

He shook his head negatively.

“I'm already set, thank you.”

The woman narrowed her eyes and grinned:

“Waiting for that dress?”

The Trevelyan smirked and shook his head.

“Waiting for you to calm down a bit.”

He bowed to her and left the bathroom.

In a few minutes, she heard him picking at strings of the bandorla that had been lying about in the room.

The sounds produced by this annoying thing were surprisingly harmonious, and soon the Inquisitor caught herself listening to the quiet tune.

When the woman was ready to leave the bathroom, she wondered how to take the dress from the bed without interrupting the musician, and then she spotted it through a crack in the door lying next to the doorframe on a chair.

She shook her head in dismay. The man was too good to be true.

She squeezed her hand into the crack in the door and pulled the dress back into the bathroom…

When she came out, Philip followed her with his eyes and smiled. He put away the instrument and stood up.

“You look gorgeous,” he uttered, reaching for her hand and kissing it.

Eli sighed and lowered her eyes.

“I feel artificial and lacking spontaneity,” she answered truthfully.

He laughed.

“Just breathe. Take pleasure in the silky smoothness of the fabric, there is no hurry. You are very beautiful.”

The tone of his voice was so soft and caring, that Eli unexpectedly blurted out:

“Just hug me please.”

Philip nodded and did as she asked. After a while, he kissed her lightly on her forehead and went to take the half-full bottle of wine.

The woman sighed, went to the wine-cellar, took another bottle, and went to lie down on the bed.

Philip joined her after taking off his tall hessian boots and helped her uncork the wine.

They took a few swigs from their bottles, and Eli asked:

“20 questions or I spy?”

“How about Truth or Dare?”

She paused then answered:

“Ok. 5 truths per person, if you fail the dare you do not blink until next round.”

“It's set. So, your Inquisitoriness, you begin.”

Eli took a swig of her wine and asked:

“What's your weirdest habit?”

Philip laughed.

“Have no idea. And the dare is…?”

“Make a poem using the words ‘orange’ and ‘moose’ while standing on one foot and taking off your doublet.

The man laughed, stood up, raised one leg in the air, and started:

“The story of the moose began…” he paused taking advantage of a tight knot on his doublet, then continued “When bitter bat sat on a can…” he pulled at another cord… “It licked his orange balls at ease…” Eli yelped and snorted, stifling the giggle. “When moose denied him expertise…” at this, Philip threw off his doublet, bowed to the woman, and stood on both legs.

Eli laughed out loud and cheered:

“I want more! What expertise? I must know!”

The man grinned and said while crawling back into bed:

“You must wait for the next dare. Now my turn.”

Eli nodded and beamed. Philip made a few gulps of the wine and laid down on a pillow.

“Let's see… What is the one embarrassing fact I should know about you?”

She cringed and called out:

“Dare!”

“Chastise yourself like a Chantry Mother while undoing the front of your dress…”

The woman growled, languidly stroked the front of her dress, and pulled at a lace:

“You are such a bad girl, I swear I will severely punish you so that you never do it again! Such a shameless thing, you are! How can you look me in the eyes when I saw you naked just yesterday! And dancing to that pagan tune, no less! I will make you crawl for the Maker's forgiveness, I'll make you beg for mercy…”

The dress front parted, and Eli exhaled with relief.

“I thought these clasps will never end…”

The expression on Philip's face indicated that he was rather of another opinion.

He licked his lips and asked in a slightly husky voice:

“What would be your question?”

The woman looked at him and peevishly asked:

“Are you turned on right now?”

“Yes.”

“Then it's your turn to ask.”

Philip stroked her cheek and lips, then brushed her breast and caressed her waist.

“What would turn you on?”

“Dare…”

“Aw. Mount me and kiss me on the mouth.”

The woman smiled and sat on top of his hips, then inclined forward and gave the man a deep kiss. He moaned and started caressing her corset-clad body but she pulled away and asked him:

“What was your naughtiest sexperience?”

The man grinned and replied with a crooked smile:

“Maybe I'll tell you one day, but now… dare.”

Her pupils were dilated when she told him:

“Take your damn clothes off, stand on your knees, your hands on your head, and wait for my command!”

The man shook his head, took a swig of wine, and went to the carpet to start undressing.

Half-jokingly, he asked:

“The way this is going, do I get to use some stop-word or something?”

Eli just shushed him and observed his deft movements.

The man's body was so stunning that Eli slipped out of the bed and began circling him, watching him from all angles, amazing at this living work of art.

Philip went down on his knees and obediently put his palms on his nape. He wasn't happy about this, but, apparently, this was not the first time that he played this game.

Eli caressed him to her leisure for some time, then dropped to her knees, and started kissing him. The man was kissing her back but otherwise remained still.

Eli pulled away a bit, letting a thread of saliva hang between their mouths then said:

“Ah. There is no dare for this one. I command you to tell me if anyone ever fucked you in your ass.”

Philip slightly winced and replied:

“Yes.”

“Did you come?”

“This is a second question, and it's my turn now.”

He quickly stripped her of the outer layer of the dress, pressed her to the carpeted floor, laid on top of her, and asked:

“Do you want it rough or gentle?”

Eli embraced him tightly with her arms and legs and whispered:

“Show me yourself…”

His arms were deft, his fingers nimble, his mouth avid… She was so excited that she barely registered his member sliding into her, and only when his tip hit her cervix did she moan, torn by the diverse sensations all throughout her body. She felt melting in his arms, craving for each push, his testicles spanking her labia, mouth teasing her breasts, fingers exploring all her crevices…

The man played with her body as if she were a bandorla that he had used earlier, and she was amazed to find that with him, she could go far beyond her usual boundaries and she enjoyed it madly.

Her moans and his groans reached a crescendo, and then they both collapsed, breathing heavily.

Philip sighed and let the woman slip from his grip when she started wriggling out from under him.

“I'm thirsty and I want to fall asleep,” she mumbled, reaching for a jug.

She made a few gulps from it and crawled into bed.

“Come. You don't want to spend the night on a floor rug at this altitude… and I need a hug to sleep tight…”

Philip laughed softly and went to bed.

“You are one Fade of a ride, sweetie…”

The Inquisitor cuddled in the man's arms and murmured sleepily:

“I want you to stay…”

The Council met Philip rather warmly after the Trevelyan's tip had proved to be valid, and the man coolly eased himself into one of the empty chairs standing around the table.

“Can anyone tell me why you have no strategy here?” he asked calmly the members, his velvety baritone resounding under the high ceiling vault. “I've spent here, what, two hours already, and you are still discussing your reactions to the enemy's moves. If you want to win this war, you should build your offense as thoroughly as you are building your defenses.”

Cassandra frowned.

“Do you have any suggestions?”

Philip shrugged his massive shoulders.

“Plenty. For once, stop reacting to their provocations, you have enough intelligence to predict what's real and what's just a showcase to poke you in the ribs and draw your attention elsewhere. Provoke them yourselves and leave such cases as petty squabbles between nobles to your Ambassador… Josephine, isn't it? Right. The Inquisitor here is most useful in closing the rifts, so prioritize, close first those rifts that do the most damage to the populace, leave those on mountaintops and in swamps for the tooth picking after all other threats are dealt with… I could go on but it's a waste of everyone's time. In short, you need a plan.”

Dorian wickedly curved his brow and uttered:

“And thus we are lead to believe that you are the man with the plan, aren't you?”

The Trevelyan cast a cold glance at the mage.

“I could just as well order everyone here to perform specific tasks, and believe me, the efficiency of this decrepit asylum would skyrocket in no time.”

Leliana frowned, folded her arms on her chest, and said tersely:

“I'd like to hear out your pompous bragging and see for myself whether it is worth following your ‘efficient’ plan.”

Philip cast her a cool gaze and said with a crooked smile playing on his lips:

“Why, dear Lily, thank you for drawing my attention to your glorious person, for you will be the first to have an assignment.”

She instantly came out with an acid retort:

“Can't wait to hear the pearls of your wisdom, milord.”

Philip grinned, visibly unperturbed by the Spymaster's tone, and said:

“First, my dear Lily, you find a way to infiltrate the Venatori.”

The Spymaster scoffed:

“Hah! As if we never tried it!”

The Trevelyan shook his head.

“Tut-tut-tut… Poor you… Dorian? What do you reckon, what are your chances?”

The Tevinterian tightened his muscled frame and quickly thought it over.

“I believe it's… feasible. Dangerous, but feasible.”

“Who would you choose to support you and mitigate the risks?”

The mage scratched his head.

“Well, I know a guy… He is reliable… Yes, it could work out well… What kind of information should I be looking for?”

Philip nodded as if in response to his thoughts and instead asked Sera:

“You seem to have your jennies in a lot of places. How about the Venatori households?”

Sera bit her lower lip, a hard effort written all over her screwed up face.

“I'll ask around. There must be some a lil'bit everywhere…”

“You do that. We need to provide as much support to Dorian as we can. Dorian, you just focus on gaining their trust. We cannot give you any more information for now, for obvious reasons. Work out the details with the Spymaster after this meeting in private. And I would also suggest you leave this room now. Again, for the same reasons… Next question…”

In the space of an hour, the Trevelyan remastered the whole stratagem, staying focused, clear, and giving out precise orders with brief explanations to the thrill of all involved. People started feeling like efficient parts of a well-oiled flexible mechanism, for the first time starting to understand the big picture.

The Trevelyan, whoever he was, an abomination, a libertin, or both, or neither, was indeed a priceless acquisition to the organization.

The sun was setting and coloring the ramparts a brilliant golden pink hue. The air was fresh and crystalline pure, crisp with the smells of mountain snow, and sweet with delicate aroma rising from the Skyhold bakery.

The Inquisitor was perched on a rampart, contemplating the military camp below, trying to descry individual occupations.

She heard soft steps behind her and turned her head.

Philip grinned at her, chose a place next to her, and peeked at the landscape below.

“Quite a scenery,” he uttered softly, assessing the camp at a glance.

“Quite a performance,” echoed Eli, giggling merrily.

The man cast her a sideward gaze.

“You mean at the Council? Yeah, I couldn't resist.”

The Inquisitor nodded.

“Thank you for significantly simplifying my task.”

The Trevelyan inclined his head, acknowledging the woman's gratitude, but did not reply, his eyes still fixed on the camp.

The Inquisitor cocked her head and asked:

“So, what are you really? An abomination, the Empress's lover, an army commander in disguise? An infiltrator?”

The man chuckled ironically.

“Is it so hard to believe that I am what I seem to be? An ally offering help in areas you sorely need?”

The Inquisitor dubiously shook her head.

“Who says your radical plan will work out? To risk so much, we must have at least some…”

“Guarantee?” he interjected. “There is no such thing as guarantees in life. The way I read the situation, everything I've suggested so far makes perfect sense. The plan has good chances to work out well. I came prepared. I learned everything there is to learn about Corypheus. Granted, there are always unpredictable factors at play, but I tried to minimize them by installing backup procedures… But you were asking about my credentials, didn't you?”

The Inquisitor nodded, in spite of herself fascinated by things the man had to say.

He grinned at her and made a courtly gesture of Orlesian politesse.

“Entendre c'est obéir. I was the Empress's military counselor for quite some time. And my advice was oftentimes as sound as that of a seasoned general. I just happen to be a good advisor.”

“And did you make your way to your position through her bedroom, same as here in Skyhold?”

The man sighed, his eyes fixed on the distant camp.

“I never comment on such issues.”

“So I figured. But I had to ask.”

“What's in it to you?”

Eli raised from her seat and looked the man in the eyes.

“I just cannot understand why would you leave a place that seemed to fit you for so long? And for what? For an ass-freezing crow nest far in the mountains with a bunch of clueless riff-raff?!”

Unimpressed, Philip shrugged his shoulders.

“For clueless riff-raff, you were doing not so bad thus far. I'm just not used to sit on my hands while disasters of such magnitude strike Thedas.”

“Then you plan on returning back to Val Royaux after all this is over?”

The Trevelyan looked at the woman incredulously and laughed:

“You know something that I don't? You know for sure that you'll be here in a year's time? I don't have any illusions as to my fate when involved in a mess of such epic proportions. This is a one-way ticket, I'm afraid, sweetie.”

Eli gravely nodded.

“Then we are on the same page here.”

Philip looked at her, his eyes twinkling mischievously, and said:

“Good. Then may I be on my way, your Worship?”

The Inquisitor frowned.

“What about tonight?”

The Trevelyan raised his brow.

“What about it?”

Eli grew visibly annoyed.

“You bargained so hard to have sex with me and now you are playing the innocent?!”

The man laughed.

“Oh, but wasn't the bargain itself the main entertainment?”

He made to leave, still laughing, which made the Inquisitor furious.

“I swear I'll kill you! I will put you in chains and then crucify you at the main gate!”

Unperturbed, Philip turned to her, nodded, and said laughing:

“Huh, you and your fantasies of binding me. Are you sure _you_ don’t want to be bound, sweetie?”

The woman was glaring at him vehemently.

“Just you dare say another word!”

“Now that's it! This woman needs some serious spanking!” exclaimed Philip acting angry. He returned to the observation spot, grabbed the woman by the waist, put her on his shoulder, and went to push the door to the nearest tower.

Inside, it was drafty and uninhabited, but a well-preserved carpet was covering the debris, and Philip pulled at it to uncover a sturdy-looking table. He put the carpet back on and pushed the Inquisitor onto it. In an instant, he wisped a long cord from his waist and tied the screaming and kicking woman to the table, leaving her butt exposed and defenseless.

She was wriggling madly and shouting, but the man's deft movements were very careful and precise.

“I’ve told you I was a good hunter. Now you can see it for yourself… and now I will give you a real reason to chain me…”

He pushed down her leather pants and stroked her bare buttocks. Her labia were glistening with moisture, but Eli kept screaming and swearing:

“If you so much as breathe on my butt I will skin you alive! I will cut you to pieces and let mabaris chew on your dick! I will…”

The man laughed.

“Sure, you will do just that. But it will happen much later…”

He stroked her body so languorously that Eli started to wriggle and moan in a totally different way. She was still angry at him, but at the same time she was starting to turn on, the man's strokes and light slaps making her wild.

“Oh yes, I like it how you're moving your ass, dear…” he mumbled, lightly tickling her rosy labia with his fingertips. “Your cunt is like a fresh bun, so succulent… But I'm here to punish you, dear…”

He took out his fully erect dick and pushed it hard and deep inside Eli's "bun", making her groan.

She doubled her efforts at wriggling, pulling on her ropes, her ass rising to meet the man's cock. Her sighs filled the tower and made the man feverish with desire. He was moving wildly, unbridled, taking the woman higher and higher… but then he grunted, pulled out, and pushed his cock into her asshole.

The Inquisitor screamed.

“Stop this!”

The Trevelyan slowed and finally pulled out.

“You asked me how it was to be fucked. This is how it is. And I did not have the luxury of a stop-word.”

Eli panted a bit then answered in a hoarse voice:

“Then continue. Just not so fast…”

Philip shook his head and started untying her.

“I wouldn’t want to inflict this on you, baby.”

She uttered plaintively:

“I wanna cum…”

The man dropped to his knees to level his face with her crotch and started licking it.

Eli moaned and turned to sit on the tabletop and to ruffle the man's hair.

“I want your dick inside…”

Philip squeezed his fingers into her.

“Sorry, honey, don't want to give you trouble, my dick's been in your ass…”

Eli grinned.

“Such a gentleman…”

“How do you shave your crotch so neatly?”

She giggled.

“I go to madam Zelda…”

Philip scoffed.

“Uh, that madam Zelda…”

“You disapprove?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“How can I?”

Eli turned away from the man and lay her stomach onto the tabletop.

“Let's try again in the ass, or I'm gonna combust from the heat!”

“You sure?”

“Just be gentle…”

They went wild instead, Eli wincing but pushing herself onto his cock, massaging her avid pussy…

After they scared off with their groans and moans all birds nesting in the roof, a sentinel came running to check on what was happening inside.

The two lovers could not disengage at once so they just continued until they came right under the bewildered gaze of the young soldier.

Having come back to his senses, the sentinel put on a strict face and said in a croaky voice:

“You shouldn't be here! I will have to report you to the Knight-Commander Cullen! These are defensive structures, not a whorehouse!”

Drenched in sweat, the Inquisitor laughed wearily:

“You do that. And we will be going, dear.”

The soldier did not have the balls to stop them, so they just gathered their belongings and left the tower.

Once outside, Philip asked his lover, a true concern in his warm grey eyes:

“Are you all right?”

Eli nodded and smiled.

“You owe me one. But a hot bath will do me a world of good. Let's go to the bathhouse… The second letter of my name is ‘I’…”

*

She felt very comfortable around the man. He was both strong and careful, daring and open-minded, he had an irresistible sense of humor and could be wild or totally gentle, any way she liked. His lovemaking was masterful and almost dangerous, always on the verge but completely in control. The Empress had to be crazy to let him go.

*

Eli was contemplating the movements of the masseuse, her skillful palms gliding on his well-oiled skin and squeezing his powerful muscles. When the procedure was nearing its end, Eli took the place of the masseuse and indicated to her the exit with her glance. The masseuse smiled, nodded, and silently left them.

Eli's hands traced his contours, lovingly caressed him, rubbed in some more oil, and then started massaging his sciatic muscles. The man grunted and started wriggling after a while – apparently, his genitals started causing him some discomfort.

"Turn around, if you want to," whispered Eli in a husky voice and lifted the towel a bit to help Philip turn onto his back.

She adjusted his beauty mask so that he may not see anything from below it, and returned to rubbing oil into his pelvic area. His aroused body language stirred her greatly; she was mesmerized by his facial expressions and small movements of his beautiful body.

She started stroking his penis and fondling his testicles, while still watching him closely, her mouth watering.

Once her passion reached a new height, she put the silky bell-end into her mouth and started tenderly nursing it inside. She heard him sigh, and her mouth began producing even more saliva.

He moaned almost as if suffering and started moving his hips, trying to push his shaft deeper into her mouth.

Eli was almost swallowing the man's dick, being so consumed with her desire that she started moaning too, unconcerned with the mounting noise.

She hungrily gulped down the abundant milky fluid, then sucked the softening member until it went limp, and darted to the exit. She gestured for the masseuse to resume her duty and ran to the tavern.

Dorian was sitting there, telling a templar some obscure joke, when the Inquisitor rushed in and pulled him toward the larder.

"Hey, honey, what's the rush?" the mage was bewildered but yielding to the woman's insistent tugging.

Once she closed the door behind them, she started roughly unbuttoning his fly-piece.

"Please do me a favor, Dorian, start thinking about some cute lad!"

She started feverishly massaging the Tevinterian's cock when he started feebly protesting.

"Sweet Andraste! I didn't picture it like this! For Maker's sake, woman, what are you doing?!"

Eli looked him seriously in the eye and said:

"Dorian, if you deny me now, I will simply combust into ashes and then I'll cut your throat!"

The mage's crooked grin became fixated on his face. He recognized the urgency of the situation and just nodded.

"Go ahead, dear, I'm all yours!" he purred and kissed her on the mouth. "Mmmmm, my favorite flavor!"

He did not ask further, surrendering to the woman's demand.

He entered her from behind and did a fairly good job, taking into account the circumstances.

Twenty minutes later, when Dorian and Eli were already sitting in the main tavern room and drinking ale, Philip leisurely strolled inside.

He scoped the room and went to the Inquisitor's table. His lips were twisting in an ironic grin when their eyes met.

"Having fun here, aren't you? Anything good in that pitcher of yours?" he casually checked the contents of the big jug on the table. He took a clean tankard from a nearby shelf and poured himself a pint of ale.

He sat in front of the Inquisitor, made a long gulp from the tankard, sighed with satisfaction, and looked the woman in the eyes.

"So, how's been doin' in here? Anything interesting?"

Dorian caught Philip's gaze. Master Hunter looked highly amused, his eyes flickered with mockery.

The situation looked like the game of the Wicked Grace, no one wanted to be the first to be spilling the beans, so the three of them just sat there, small talking well into the night.

At the long last, the Inquisitor sighed and rose from her seat.

"I don't know about you, guys, but this has been a long day, and I intend to go sleep. If the two of you are of a mind, you can join me in my bed, since I know that it attracts you more than any other piece of furniture in this whole damn freezing dump."

Dorian and Philip glanced at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and rose as well.

"Lead the way, Mistress of the House!" chuckled Philip and followed her outside. Dorian cheerfully kept up with them.

The night promised to be long and full of delights.


End file.
